Erasers
by Polaroidal.Pen
Summary: Success is built on failure. It's how people learn. It's how people grow... Except for the times when they don't. Sometimes, failure is just failure. When Itsuki is given a chance to teach Raiha, she soon discovers the consequences of her dreams.
1. Chapter 1

Erasers

**Author's Note: Hello lovely people! Thanks for giving this story a chance and I hope you like it! This story is connected to my other story, "The Middle Child" but I did my best to make sure you don't need to read the other one for this too make sense. Think of it as the MCU... standalone films but they're still connected somehow. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story!**

Itsuki fought back a yawn. She felt tempted to go back to sleep and snuggle with the warm blanket in her comfortable bed. She heard the soft sounds of rain rattle against her window and the desire became stronger. But she shook off the idea and got up. She shivered a bit when the cold morning air made contact against her skin.

"Waking up is a mistake," she grumbled to herself as she got out of her room and headed downstairs.

Itsuki was the early riser of the family. She was always the first one out the quintuplets to start the day. Nevertheless, waking up was still a task for any teenager. It was her duty as a struggling high school student to be in a perpetual state of exhaustion.

Itsuki had stayed up the Friday night before studying with Yotsuba. Although being stuck between books was less than ideal, they were falling dangerously behind in their school work. She knew Uesugi-kun was doing the best he can to help them out. The image of him studying in a tattered room with his little sister struck her mind. She felt the urgency to at least carry her own weight in this matter.

She approached the living room, carrying her review sheets when she noticed a neat stack of papers on the table. It wasn't there the day before, so she wondered where it came from. It was the assigned homework Uesugi-kun had given. Even without looking at the name, Itsuki could recognize who it was. The neat handwriting style gave it away. Miku must have dropped it off in the morning before Itsuki woke up. She wondered why.

Itsuki walked to the kitchen and placed her papers on the table. She would make toast with honey and that was enough for her. At least for the morning.

She nibbled on the crust and felt the sweet bitterness of the honey spread over her tongue. She remembered when she went shopping with Nino and Miku. They would argue over the honey. Nino would complain that the one Miku chose was too bitter while Miku would retort back, saying that the one Nino chose was too sweet. They ended up with Itsuki's choice.

Her eyes followed along the letters on her paper. She would read a line, take another bite, and resume her reading. She pursed her lips. Her lowest grade at the moment was social studies and she felt the need to work harder in order to make up for it. She felt her mind protest against itself as she forced her eyes to read. She felt a wave of apathy, disgust, and contempt wash over her.

Studying was hard.

For odd reasons, an urgency inside of her grew. What it was about was something Itsuki had no idea. She just felt an instinctive pressure to do _anything_ but read her notes over _Japan's International Affairs in the Indian Ocean Trade Route during the 15__th__ Century_. She didn't blame it.

_Set an example_, the voice inside of her called out. _For yourself and for others_.

She sighed and clutched her pencil. It was her job as a student to study; her responsibility to learn. It wasn't something she could easily dismiss.

"Okay," she muttered to herself and re-adjusted her glasses. Uesugi-kun will come later during the day, giving her a chance to ask him for help on areas she didn't understand. So for now, she would have to work on the things for herself.

There was a soft noise of the city traffic that could be heard along with the rain. A boom gently shook the window. Itsuki mindlessly traced her fingers along her eraser. It was a small black rubber eraser with rough edges that showed signs of its use. She took the eraser and would often tap it against the table, playing with it as her eyes trudged through the paper.

Maybe it was weird, but Itsuki was rather fond of the eraser. There was a small sentimental value in it. It was always there for her during her times of trouble on paper. And she had trouble on paper more often than not. She put it to good use.

Yes, she was friends with her eraser. Let it be known that humans will seek companions whenever possible to cope with their harsh reality.

She read a bit more before she heard the ring. The tutor was finally here. She got up and pressed the button.

"You're late," Itsuki said. She knew he couldn't see her, but she naturally placed her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, I know," she heard across the communicator. "Now could you let me in? It's cold out here. And I'm dripping wet."

She frowned. "You should've had an umbrella. You could get sick."

"I can't afford one."

She sighed as she let the entrance open. "I'm going to get you something to dry with when you come in."

She heard a soft, "thanks," that was picked up by the communicator and it made her smile. She quickly went over to her laundry basket and picked up a warm towel. She contemplated the idea of waking up the rest of her family but by the time she made it back, Uesugi stood at the entrance.

"You weren't lying," she said. She walked over and handed him the towel. "You're soaked."

He suffocated his face against it. "Thanks," he groaned. "You're a life saver."

"Honestly, I understand your financial struggles but shouldn't you at least have the essentials?"

"The only essentials I ever need are papers and pencils."

"Of course." She sighed. His extremity often let her in awe. She watched him drape himself with the bath towel and walked over to the living room.

"Try not to sit on the couch until you're completely dry. The material is expensive."

"Why am I not surprised," he grumbled as he opted to sit down on the floor instead. He noticed the stacks of paper on the desk and he picked it up. "Oh, so you were studying?"

She nodded her head as she sat next to him.

"This is social studies," he observed.

"I thought I should work on my poorest subject at the moment."

He smiled. "You were always the one who did their best."

She blushed, not used to compliments from him. Before she could speak, he noticed the other stack of papers placed on the side. "Hey, wasn't this the worksheets I assigned to you guys?"

She nodded.

"Wait," he said. "This is… why is it here?"

She shrugged. "It was there when I first found it."

He didn't really say much and stared at the paper. "I'm guessing she dropped it off?"

"That's what I assumed, but I don't know where she went off," she said.

"Is she alright?" he tentatively asked. "I mean, she's just been acting…"

"I feel the same," she said. "I don't really know myself."

He sighed. "I'll just deal with it later. Right now, is anyone else awake?"

"Just me," she said. She got up. "I'll go wake them up right now."

"No, it's fine," he yawned. "Let them get there sleep. I'll just stay longer to make up for it."

Itsuki tilted her head. "Since when did you become soft?"

He shrugged. "Since someone told me to become a better teacher."

She shifted the weight on her legs. "I didn't mean it in a way-"

He raised his hands. "It's fine," he said. "I didn't take any offense to it." He was silent for a moment, looking down at the table before speaking again. "You guys aren't the only ones who's trying to change."

"Eh?"

"It's nothing," he said dismissively. "I'm sure they'll wake up soon-"

"I doubt Ichika will," Itsuki muttered.

"-so it'll just be a one-on-one until then," he said past a small chuckle over Itsuki's remarks. He turned his head over as Itsuki picked up her review materials. "If you don't mind," he added.

"You're the teacher here," she said.

And just like that, they began their work. Time dissolved. Itsuki asked. Uesugi answered. It went on and the more material they covered, the more Itsuki didn't understand. She blew out an air of frustration.

"Look," he said. He pointed at a number Itsuki highlighted. "I'm sure this date would be important to note for the multiple choice, but remembering dates won't help you understand the concept."

"I thought history is all about the dates."

"I wish," he scoffed. "Then that would make everything easy. I know it seems intuitive to categorize different subjects into neat categories. Like how math seems to be purely objective while something like language arts is subjective. But a lot of the times, it doesn't work like that. You need to understand how to learn history. History isn't just about dates and names, it's the culmination of what happened and how we think about what happened. It's viewed in multiple perspectives and we need to be able to examine it through different lenses."

"This is giving me a headache," she groaned. She rubbed her temples.

"Relax," Uesugi said. "You're doing great."

She glanced at him. He was acting nice. Strange. "You've become a lot nicer… what changed?"

"Since I realized I need different tactics if I want to make sure you guys pass your class. The same reason why I thought it would be effective for you guys to teach each other."

"It worked."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I should have thought of it sooner."

She glanced at him. He looked tired with his bagged eyes and worn-down expression. "Shouldn't you get some sleep as well?"

"It's fine," he said dismissively. "I like to say, 'Sleep is for the weak'."

"I wouldn't call that a healthy lifestyle."

"You worry about yourself. I'm assigning you to teach them today on science."

"I thought teaching was your job," she teased.

"And I thought you liked teaching."

She blushed. "Yeah," she said. "I do."

He smiled. He leaned his head back against the edges of the couch. "You know," he said. "My sister has been struggling with school lately."

"Oh?" Itsuki lifted her head. She always had a soft spot for Raiha. "That's unexpected, I thought she would be on top of her classes like you."

He shrugged. "I guess our living-situation is demanding a lot of her."

"So you want a raise?"

"Wha-No! That's not what I-" He composed himself before continuing. "-it's not money that we need."

"Then what is it?"

"I was just hoping someone would be around too, I don't know, help her out I guess." He coughed hiding his face behind his fist.

One. Two. Three. It clicked.

"I WOULD BE HONORED!"

"Woah," Uesugi said. "Calm do-"

She flung herself toward Uesugi, ecstatic at his offer. She couldn't stop herself from smiling. Her arms were wrapped around Uesugi in gratitude. The idea of teaching Raiha made her laugh in pure excitement.

"Thank you so much for-"

"Excuse me."

They both turned to see the rest of the sisters awake, disbelief at the sight they were seeing. Ichika looked flustered while Nino was glaring at the two. Yotsuba just looked confused.

Itsuki's cheeks burned as she frantically got up, dusting off her clothes. "You guys are awake," she exclaimed.

Uesugi coughed out of embracement. "Glad you guys can join us. How about we get started?"

Nino scoffed as she placed herself down across the table. Yotsuba and Ichika soon followed. Despite the mortification, Itsuki couldn't stop herself from smiling. The image of teaching Raiha was still vivid in her mind.

"Wasn't Itsuki-chan the one who said _'dating in high school is a disruption to studying'_?"

"Wait! It was a misunderstanding-"

Ichika laughed and winked at the Itsuki.

"Let's just get started," she mumbled.

1234567890

The room was filled with the sounds of pencils moving, explanations, and complaints.

"Argh! I can't do this anymore."

"That's too bad because I'm giving you two more sheets to work on."

"Fuu-kun!"

Ichika and Yotsuba laughed at the two while Itsuki attempted to make a small smile.

After the initial thrills of Uesugi's offer, she was having second thoughts. Would she be good enough? How could she teach someone when she could barely teach herself the material? The idea of her struggling to teach Raiha struck her mind. It horrified her.

"I guess we have been studying for a while now," Uesugi mumbled, glancing at the clock.

"Break time!" Ichika cheered.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Wait, I can still go," Itsuki muttered. She felt Yotsuba curiously glance at her but she ignored it and clutched her papers harder.

"It's alright," Uesugi sighed as he leaned back. "A short break is fine. We've made a lot of progress, thanks to you, Itsuki."

"Oh?" Ichika smiled. She leaned forward, grinning at Uesugi. "Since when did you learn how to give compliments?"

He rolled his eyes and ignored the comment. He seemed to be staring at the clock. It was afternoon and the rain could still be heard outside the window.

"She hasn't been back, has she?"

They all followed his eyesight.

"No," Nino said. She crossed her arms. "I tried calling her, but she wouldn't pick up the phone."

"That's because you would interrogate her FBI-style," Yotsuba said. "Maybe she needs some privacy?"

"Well," Ichika said. She got up. "I'll be back in a short while."

Uesugi looked up, curious. "Where are you heading off to now?"

Ichika winked. "A sister's secret."

Itsuki immediately knew what she was talking about. "Can I go as well?"

"Not you too," Uesugi groaned.

"We'll be back in a flash," Itsuki promised.

"Ugh, fine," he said. "I'll just deal with these two in the meantime. Make it quick."

After promising him to be back, they left. When they exited the door, Itsuki could hear Nino and Yotsuba causing a ruckus.

"You think they'll be alright?" Itsuki asked.

"We'll see when we get back."

They exited out their apartment and walked across the streets of Tokyo for a while when Itsuki spoke again. "So what made you want to go right now?"

"I've been meaning to go today," Ichika said. "I was feeling nervous, so I thought talking to her would make me feel better."

Itsuki turned to her sister who was looking ahead, not bothering to dodge the puddles weld up on the ground. They were making tiny splashes across the walkway. The sound of rain tapped against her umbrella. She felt a cold breeze slap against her hair. "What are you feeling nervous for?" she asked.

Ichika shrugged. They walked a bit more before she spoke again. "There's a new role coming up- next week actually," she said. "And it's a pretty big deal."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks," she grinned. "I guess it was just overwhelming."

"Are you afraid that you're going to mess up?"

"A little," she admitted. "But thank god for film editing."

"Oh, right," Itsuki said. "You can afford mistakes."

Ichika laughed. "Film editing. CGI. Multiple Takes. Advanced cameras. Making a movie really is putting up the best front, don't you think?"

"But still, isn't there something at stakes when you mess up? Don't you have to get a dialogue perfectly right or something?"

"Well, we usually call those moments of mistakes 'improvisation'," Ichika softly chuckled to herself, "but the acting world is pretty forgiving when you make mistakes now that I think about it. Still, that doesn't make things easier."

After walking, they were there, standing in front of their mother's grave. A marble tombstone with a slate that was etched with a eulogy. For as often as she came, Itsuki didn't really know what to expect. But both the sisters bowed their head.

Upon the death, one was called to become the leader while the other was called to follow the mother's footsteps.

Itsuki wanted to make her mother proud by becoming a teacher. She has her first opportunity to get experience and repay the Uesugi family's kindness when she left the house over a spat with Nino. This was something she couldn't fail.

The silence between them was interrupted by Ichika. "Hey, Itsuki-chan. Have you heard the pottery parable?"

Itsuki shook her head.

"So a pottery teacher decided to conduct an experiment for her class. She divided the class into two sections and they each had different assignments. She told the first group to make the perfect piece of pottery by the end of the year, while she told the second group to make as many potteries as possible. By the end of the year, it turns out that the group who were focusing on making more potteries turned out to make more beautiful works of art. Their pottery pieces were way better than the group whose sole focus was on making that one perfect pot."

She glanced at her sister.

"It's the same with making a movie," Ichika said. "It's not about making the perfect scene. I guess it's about taking several takes to figure out which one fits the best to the story as a whole. You learn as you go along." Ichika offered Itsuki a smile. "I think life is like that too, you know? You fail your way to success. You bounce back on it. You learn from it. You grow from it."

Itsuki chewed on what her older sister said. "But what about the times you can't afford a mistake?" She felt Ichika's stare. Itsuki wanted to believe in a rosy view on failure where you can build on your own short-comings. "Sometimes, you only get one chance. What happens when you let that moment go?"

"I like to think that that would mean it's not yet over."

"You have a rather optimistic view on this matter."

"What other choices do we have? Failure is inevitable. Even the best of us."

Itsuki sighed.

"Itsuki-chan." Ichika frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Uesugi-kun might have offered me a job… to tutor Raiha-chan."

"That's amazing!" Ichika exclaimed. "This is a great chance for you to…you're nervous, aren't you?"

"Failure has consequences," Itsuki said. She clenched her fist tightly around her umbrella, feeling her fingernails dig through her palm. She felt her stomach twist. "My mistakes aren't only going to affect me. If I mess up, I'll… If I- If I mess up then I-"

Ichika placed her hand on Itsuki's shoulder. "Hey," she said softly. "It's okay. You'll be okay. You're good enough to teach students."

"But what if I'm not?"

"Then I'm sure Fuutarou-kun would not have asked you in the first place."

"I…" She sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"It's alright. You're allowed to have doubts," Ichika said. "Now come on. I don't know about you, but I'm not a big fan of hanging around the cemetery."

Itsuki felt her heart waver at the idea of teaching. She remembered how much she struggled to learn. Would she be good enough?

"I'm sure that no matter what happens, everything will turn out fine in the end."

"And if doesn't?"

"Then I guess it's not the end."

"Bleh," Itsuki stuck her tongue out. "Too optimistic."

"I like to say it's my philosophy," Ichika laughed. "I made a lot of mistakes, especially for my try-outs for a role. And I learned the most from them. I find disasters rather necessary."

Itsuki wondered. She wondered how it'll feel when she makes a mistake. The mortifying scene of making a mistake in front of a class as a teacher struck her mind. She would be standing in front of students. The stares. The snickers. The annoyed sighs. The judgmental head shakes. It paralyzed her. The scene played in her mind paralyzed her.

She would have to try harder. She would have to try harder. She couldn't afford a mistake. Not when the consequences are beyond her. Her failure would mean more to the future of her students. Her ineptitude was going to be a burden on-

She felt a finger flicked across her forehead.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Doubting," Ichika said. "I could tell because your glasses shake along with the rest of your head."

"I don't do that," Itsuki muttered as she quickly re-adjusted her glasses.

Ichika softly chuckled to herself. "You can't fool your big sister. I understand you're nervous, but have some faith, okay?"

"Hard to do that when you barely manage to pass your classes."

They didn't speak as they walked ahead.

"Itsuki-chan," Ichika said. "Failure is inevitable."

"I know," she sighed. "But that doesn't make it any less painful."

"You always tried your hardest," Ichika softly said.

Itsuki felt her heartache when she heard that. She had to work with everything she got to pass. And even then, it wasn't enough. Sometimes, hard work wasn't enough and that hurt Itsuki. But maybe that's why failure was necessary. The pain of failure was there to make the hard work all the more rewarding when things finally do fall into place. Maybe failure was there to make success all the more richer. But…

"The scary thing is," Itsuki said. "Nothing guarantees that success lies at the end of failure."

Fear of failure. Maybe that's all there was to it. Maybe the idea that giving it your best and seeing that it still doesn't reap what you worked for was something that terrified Itsuki. She believed in fairness. She desperately held onto the idea that people who stayed true and good would eventually get what they should have earned. And the idea that disappointment, ineptitude, or unworthiness would be there to everyone, regardless of the fact on whether they deserved it or not, shook Itsuki deep to her core.

Itsuki was nice and honest to the world and she desperately wanted it to be nice and honest back to her.

"Do you truly think that failure just means it's not the end?" Itsuki asked.

"I don't know. But it's better than any other option there is."

"And what's that?"

"Realizing it's the end and seeing how nothing will change."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Completely unfair," Itsuki muttered as she walked across the streets of Tokyo alone.

_Hey, Itsuki-chan. Can you stop by the café and buy us some snacks?_

_ Why me?_

_ …You have the coupons on you, right?_

Her fingers traced along the brightly color paper that had pictures of pastries. It was true, but nevertheless, she was still mildly annoyed over Ichika's request. She would hope there was still enough time to study when she would go home. Maybe Miku would be back from wherever she was and there to teach her.

She made her way to the bakery that Nino worked at. She remembers the incident where she met with Shimodo-san. Her phone felt heavy inside her purse. Should she call her? She pursed her lips and felt her hair flutter against the wind that carried droplets of water.

The bakery stood in front of her. She walked in to feel the warm air brush against her cheeks, it carried the scent of butter. Idle chatter filled the air. The rain must have forced people to take shelter under the roof. There was an aged couple, the old man was drinking his coffee as his wife gently picked apart a baguette with her fingers. A worn down college student sat by the window, scribbling furiously. The bagged eyes showed just how tired he was. There seemed was a young couple sitting in the booth, holding hands across the table. Itsuki always enjoyed the atmosphere bakeries had. When she got her order, she placed it in the bag and got ready to walk back home when something caught her eye.

It was Miku… dressed as herself. She was wearing the star-shaped pins and the wig. What was she doing? She seemed like she was talking to some-

It was Shimodo-san.

"Isn't that right, Itsuki?" Shimodo greeted her when Itsuki gingerly approached the two.

Itsuki was about to speak but was abruptly interrupted by Miku.

"Why are you here?"

Itsuki flinched. Miku wasn't the one to have an outburst. There was a look of panic in her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Itsuki said. She lifted her bag. "I came to buy snacks." _That Ichika made her buy_. She felt herself bristle when Miku questioned why she was here. Everyone was worried sick about her. She wouldn't pick up calls or respond back to texts. And here she was, at the bakery. "Besides, I should be asking where you were. You left without saying a word. All you did was leave your packet on the table. We were worried about you! Well, Uesugi-kun was mad because he thought you tried to escape from his tutoring. And why do you have on my hairpins?"

Miku faltered. She stuttered a bit until Shimodo interjected the sisters and spoke for Miku's place.

"I was just chatting with Miku over here and I asked her if she could wear those hairpins to see how similar you look."

Itsuki eyed Shimodo suspiciously. Sure, Itsuki's grades were bad. But she wasn't dumb. Miku offered more excuse and Itsuki sighed. She supposed it wasn't her place to know. "If you say so," she said. Despite the circumstance, she figured it was a stroke of luck that she was able to meet Shimodo-san. She was about to ask her for some advice when Miku got up, dusting off her skirt.

"Thank you very much for the drink and I appreciated the talk that we had."

Itsuki was about to protest but saw the look on Miku's face and faltered. There was a sense of desperation in Miku's eyes. The usual sense of gentleness was replaced with fear. It was a look that Itsuki didn't see often in her. It made Itsuki hesitate.

Shimodo gave her a toothy grin and did a mock salute. "It's no problem! Always a pleasure to help out my sensei's daughter. Nice seeing you too, Itsuki!"

Awkward as Itsuki felt, she walked out of the bakery with Miku on her side. The rain poured over their umbrellas and Itsuki felt her ankles getting wet. The wind blew and she felt goosebumps across her legs. She heard splashes. She turned to see Miku look down on the ground, stepping over the puddles. Itsuki winced she saw Miku step in a particularly deep one.

"Is what Shimodo-san said true? That she was the one who wanted to see you dressed as me."

Miku glanced toward Itsuki. "Do you not believe us?"

Itsuki flinched. "That's not what I meant."

She never understood the quintuplet doppelganger games that they played. Granted, she was the worst actress in the family and they did have the opportunity to act due to the fact that they were physically identical. Still, what was the point in acting as someone else? Did people not confuse them enough?

They talked a bit more when Itsuki wanted to ask a question that was bugging her. "After you talked with Shimodo-san, do you also have intentions on becoming a teacher?" Miku was the smartest one in the family- although that's not much of a statement. The idea of Miku being a teacher seemed to click well in Itsuki's mind. It seemed… fitting. She had a sense of tenderness that made people relax around her.

"I'm not sure," Miku mused. "Do you want me to?"

"I, for one, think you would be an amazing teacher!"

Miku scoffed. "Talking in front of twenty judgmental teenagers would kill me."

"But you were so good at teaching us!"

"Hmmm, that's only because I was explaining it to you guys. I mean, we're quintuplets."

Itsuki frowned. "But still-"

"Nah," Miku said. "I don't think I was meant to become a teacher." She looked away, not bothering to avoid the puddles. "I'm not like you. Or mom."

Itsuki flinched. There was a cold stare on her face that scared Itsuki.

"Are you," Itsuki hesitantly asked, "scared of failing?"

Miku walked a bit more before responding. "It is scary," she admitted. "The idea that your mistakes are shown to the entire world."

Itsuki wasn't sure of whether or not she was glad that someone else felt the same way. But perhaps, she wasn't so crazy. "You know," she said. "Ichika told me a story. About a pottering class where the kids who made the most amount of pottery ended up making the most beautiful ones." Itsuki could hear the soft rain droplets. The wind blew again and the tree made a rustle as they walked by. The air was cold while her cheeks were burning. They walked faster.

"What do you think that means?" Miku asked.

"I… It certainly chooses quantity over quantity," she softly laughed.

Miku softly hummed in agreement. "I guess, for you, that means you should just teach as much as possible. That's the thing, isn't it? To worry less about making it perfect."

"Ichika said something similar to that."

"Take it from your older sisters. They know what to do."

Itsuki pouted. "Not helping."

"I'm joking," Miku said. They walked a bit before Itsuki spoke again.

"I wished… there was something we could do to undo our mistakes." Miku looked over curiously as Itsuki continued to talk. "I mean, I just think it would be nice for us to have some kind of way to redo the things we failed at. A second chance. Something for us to go back and just- you know, do again. Kind of like…" she sighed. "Kind of like an eraser."

She felt Miku's stare and was taken aback by a soft giggle from her mouth. "Are you talking about your eraser? The one I gave you as a gift when you passed your quiz last month? You were always oddly fond of that."

"Hey!"

"A real-life eraser…" Miku said. She sighed. There seemed to be a sad smile on her face. "Yeah, that would be nice."

"Think about it," Itsuki said. She twirled her umbrella within her palm. "No more mistakes. No more failures. Everything we will ever do would be perfect."

"If we never made mistakes ever, I don't think Fuutarou would need us."

"Well…" She hadn't thought of that.

"Then again," Miku said. "I don't think we would need anyone for that matter. Not even each other."

Itsuki sighed. "If one of us screws up-"

"-Then the five of would overcome it together," Miku finished. It was a philosophy that the quintuplets lived by. "You still want that eraser?"

"That's not a fair question."

Miku turned her head towards Itsuki.

"All I…" Itsuki said. She looked down to see small ripples made in the puddle of the road. "I just- I just don't want to disappoint anyone. I don't want to let anyone down. I'm trying so hard. And I'm scared." She tightened her fist around the umbrella. She was shaking. "I'm so scared that things aren't going to work out the way I need it to be."

"Mom would have been proud of you."

Itsuki lifted her head up.

Miku stared ahead. "Remember when I said to Fuutarou during Christmas?"

"You mean when we all jumped into the river?"

"I told him what he told us. That failure is the stepping stone to success."

Itsuki sighed. "I know. I know. I know failure is supposed to help-"

"But it's hard," Miku continued. "It's hard to believe in that sentiment. It's hard to put your faith in your failures. Because sometimes… failures aren't as glorious or empowering as we want them to be. Sometimes, they just hurt. Growing pain sometimes are just pains. Sometimes, you don't learn from them. You don't build on them." She smiled at Itsuki before looking ahead again. "I think it takes strength and courage to be able to live with those failures. Not because they're going to help us, but only because they're going to stick with us for as long as we live."

Itsuki stared at Miku. She felt the need to say something. "Hey, Mom would have proud of you too."

Her eyes were into a distance that Itsuki was unable to see. "Let's hope so."

"Miku…"

They made their way home. Fuutarou practically screamed at the two for being late. He was busy lecturing the two but Itsuki could tell he was relieved that they were back. As they both were forced to sit down on their knees while an angry tutor loomed over them, she couldn't help but glance at Miku who seemed to be spacing out.

Some failures will stick with us.

If what Miku said was true, then what a strange thing to carry around with you. What a tiresome companion. It was then the idea of a real-life eraser only seemed more appealing to Itsuki.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Itsuki hummed as she picked up a book. She would briefly open the cover, skim through the pages, and place it back down. One book after the other, trying to find the perfect one she had in mind.

"Can you please tell me why we're here again?" Nino asked. She stood next to Itsuki, leaning on a bookshelf with a brightly colored drink in her hand with her purse resting on the floor.

They were in a bookstore you would see at the mall. The kind where you would see people of all sorts. Some would go to hang out. You could see a handful of students studying in the back corner. There was a pair of adults sitting at a table, conducting an informal business meeting with their rolled-up sleeves and loose ties. The floors were marbled with commercial signs hanging around the wall. There was a soft rustle in the air as if it took shelter against the noise of the Tokyo mall it inhabited. The scent of paper and caffeine roamed around and you could see people lining up at the coffee shop.

"It's tomorrow," Itsuki said. She placed down a thick book back where it belonged.

"What is?"

"I'm going to teach Raiha."

Nino frowned. "This is the first time I ever heard of that."

"Well, Uesugi-kun offered me a chance to teach Raiha."

"Why would Fuu-kun do that?"

Itsuki tried to ignore her hands that shook ever so softly and glared at her sister.

Nino just sighed, raising her hands in defeat. "Alright, alright. I'm sure Fuu-kun knows what's best." She took a sip out of her drink, staring at the bag that was already full of books about teaching. "So you're really serious about this." She took out a small object she found in the bag. It was a small badge tilted, _Inertia!_, with a small clip art of a beaker and glasses.

"Of course I am," Itsuki said. "I'm going to become a teacher."

"Just like mom," Nino whispered softly. A silence filled between them.

Itsuki stared at her. "Yeah," she said hesitantly. "Is there something wrong?" She remembered the small incident she had with Nino. When the unsettled feelings each of them carried in the past boiled inside of them before exploding. They made up for the incident rather well but if Nino still held a grudge…

Nino sighed. "No, of course not." She scratched her head a bit. "It's just…"

Itsuki looked at her curiously. She seemed troubled. It's been like that for her family for a while now. Disturbed. Stressed. Something was off with each of her family, Itsuki included. It's been a week since she talked with Ichika and Miku. A week since she was offered to teach. A lot of things happened since then.

Itsuki noticed Nino staring at the small badge. "You like it? It came with the science journal."

Nino softly scoffed. "A little bit nerdy for my taste."

"Keep it," Itsuki said. "Maybe it can be your good luck charm the next time we take a science test."

"I don't need it."

"Your grades say otherwise," Itsuki teased.

Nino rolled her eyes but she kept the badge in her hand. She stared at the white, marble ground before asking, "So Ichika wasn't able to go to school yesterday."

"Yes," Itsuki said. "I remember talking to her before. She said that she got a big role and how she was going to be busy for a while. I'm still upset that she asked Miku to take her place…"

"She's been progressing in her career fast." Nino traced her fingers mindlessly along the cursive line of the badge.

"Are you jealous?"

Nino scoffed at the idea. "I could care less about acting or fame. It's not my style."

Itsuki frowned. "Then what's wrong?"

Nino didn't answer. She just stared at the badge she held tightly against her fingers. "Itsuki," she suddenly said. "Why do you want to become a teacher?"

Itsuki blinked. She blinked again. "Because… I-"

"No. Give me more. More than just the reason that our mom was also a teacher. More than the idea that teaching is fun. Why, Itsuki? Why are you so eager?"

"Because…" Itsuki felt her mouth turn sour.

"Because what?" Nino asked. She signed, staring wearily at the badge that was now hers. "It's going to be hard in becoming for a teacher. And let's be honest… it's us we're talking about."

There was silence between the two, filled with the shuffling of pages and books around them. Itsuki felt her heart beat against the rhythm of the music that played on the ceiling. It was an old, pop song that she had forgotten a long time ago. She felt her mouth turn sour.

Nino took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was harsh of me. I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to know why you're so set on something that seems hard."

Itsuki held a book in her hand. A colorful book with an italic font for the title cover. It was a YA romance novel from the looks of it, but Itsuki couldn't tell. The words weren't registered in her mind. Her mind was going blank.

"I'm sorry, Itsuki. I didn't mean-"

"How long has it been since our mother died?"

Nino looked stunned. "What are you-"

"For a long time now. Can you guess what my averages are in my class?"

Nino didn't answer.

"I'm barely passing."

"What's your point?"

"I have to be mother," Itsuki said. So softly. So quietly.

But it was the loudest thing she felt in her heart.

"Itsuki…"

"I have to be mother… I- I have to. With our mom gone, we had to watch out for ourselves. And I… I'm not smart. I know. Believe me, I know more than anyone else in the world. I'm not smart, no matter how hard I try, I'm going to struggle." She turned her head, forcing Nino to meet her eyes. "But I have to be the person who I needed as a kid. I'm going to be the person who I need in my life. This isn't just what I want. This is what I need. I'm sure of it."

She was going to be the person who she was going to be proud of. She was going to be the person who was reliable. To herself and to others. She wasn't going to fail because her life, as well as others, were counting on it. She was sure of it.

Neither one moved.

"Let's hope," Nino said. "That you're right."

"We all eventually become who we needed in our lives, Nino. Is that so wrong?"

"That's the past. Can't you let it go and move on?"

"I could say the same for you."

Nino flinched. Itsuki wondered if she had gone too far. She was about to apologize when Nino sighed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't want to have an argument with you. I was just… I was just curious. It's good. It's nice to see you try so hard."

"Nino," Itsuki said gently. "Then what's the problem?"

"It's just… maybe… I think you're trying too hard, Itsuki."

Itsuki sucked in a deep breath. "What other choice do I have?"

"It's not an all or nothing," Nino said. "You still have a choice."

"We'll see how tomorrow goes," Itsuki smiled. "Besides, I think I'm ready."

And it was the biggest lie she ever made to her sister.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Itsuki, approaching Fuutarou's house, knew the only outcome was a catastrophe.

The silence of the night was deafening.

The trees were dead.

Itsuki felt her heart pound against the ribs of her chest. She was lucky it was caged.

Every word, every thought suddenly lost its use. It lost its meaning inside Itsuki's mind. The books she read before became meaningless.

The door opened and they talked.

Who?

Itsuki listened but she could not understand. She walked and saw the papers. They were assignments made for middle school students.

Itsuki would talk but Raiha could not understand. Her trembling fingers meant nothing. Her voice was shaking.

The concerned glance from Fuutarou haunted her in the background.

She looked back to Raiha…. That was Raiha, right?

Uesugi Raiha. The younger sister.

No, not anymore. It was a younger Itsuki. It was the Middle School Itsuki. The one who cried herself to sleep when she realized that her mom was no longer there for her. The orphan. The one who teachers gave up on because she could never grasp the material correctly no matter how many times they taught her. The idiot.

She saw a lost, confused kid who desperately needed help. She saw a kid all alone in her struggles. She saw herself.

Time went by.

She got up. She bowed. She ran.

A hysterical laugh broke inside her.

Nothing changed.

She didn't change.

A disaster.

No erasers here in real life.

There are failures stick with us for the rest of our lives.

And you can't go back.

No erasers can ever purify us.

Her sobs were heard in the middle of the night. She was ashamed. She was devasted. She was humiliated. She was a failure.

No erasers.

No erasers.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

She heard a knock on the door. She made no attempt to move.

There was a soft voice heard across. "Hey… you alright?"

Itsuki didn't answer. She hugged her knees closer to her chest, hoping to conceal her heart.

There was another knock.

"Please," Itsuki whispered. Her voice was hoarse, yet fragile, traces of tears lingered behind it. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving until you open this door."

"Then you're going to have to live there."

"I don't want you alone right now. Let me help."

Help. That's all Itsuki ever wanted to do in her life. Help. She wanted to be the person who was able to help her family. She wanted to be the person who can be there for everyone. Was that so wrong?

Itsuki sighed. "What do you want, Yotsuba?"

Her sister gingerly peaked her head in first. She then approached her.

Itsuki couldn't stare at the concerned look in Yotsuba's eyes so she settled to look down at her feet instead.

"You alright?"

"Yeah."

There was a silence between them. Yotsuba scratched her head and sighed. "Right," she said. "That was stupid of me to ask. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"… I take it didn't go too well."

It was the silence that confirmed her answer.

Yotsuba sat down next to Itsuki. "Hey," she tried to offer Itsuki a smile. "It's going to be alright."

Itsuki could only shake her head.

They both sat there for a while. Neither talked; neither moved.

"You don't have to stay."

"I know."

Yotsuba still didn't move.

"Yotsuba, you can go."

"Let me stay," she whispered. "After all, misery loves company. Right?"

Itsuki choked out a scoff. "You're awfully stubborn."

Yotsuba hummed. "Says you."

Itsuki turned to see a comforting smile out of her sister. A bright tug of her lips that was as gentle and soft as her sister. Seeing the sight made Itsuki feel like her gut was being ripped out. Her hands shook slightly at the shock of her emotions.

She didn't deserve that smile.

"You made Raiha-chan really worried."

"Tell her that I'm sorry."

"It's okay. She doesn't think any less of you. She thought you were sick so you couldn't do much."

"Tell Uesugi-kun as well."

Yotsuba softly laughed to herself. "I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

Itsuki bit her inner lips. "And why is that?"

"Because you did nothing wrong."

"You don't understand," Itsuki said. "You weren't there."

"I don't need to be to know that you did nothing wrong."

There were rare moments when Yotsuba made Itsuki mad. But at times, Itsuki felt that Yotsuba was often too forgiving. Too understanding. Too empathetic to a lost cause.

"I failed them, Yotsuba."

Itsuki felt herself shaking. She was thinking back to the moment and it pained her. She wanted to bleach her mind out.

"I thought I could do it."

"Itsuki…"

"I tried so hard." Itsuki felt herself choke from all the emotions surging inside of her again. "I'm trying so hard and- and…" She couldn't stop hot tears roll against her cheeks.

"Yeah," Yotsuba said. She wrapped her arms around Itsuki, her voice soft. "I understand."

"It's not fair," she sobbed. She felt her insides being ripped apart. There was a burning sensation that hurt so bad that Itsuki didn't know what to do.

"I know," Yotsuba said. "It's nothing like what they show in movies."

Itsuki made a strangled laugh. She hated the corny movies where it tries to teach you the 'values' of failures. She hated stories that tried their best to tell you that failure was essential to success. She was tired of being told how enlightening failure could be. Because she believed it and everything was all the more painful because she desperately placed her hopes in it. Because perhaps, she wanted to buy into the idea that failure was a stepping stone to success. To someone like her, the stories of rags to riches, zero to hero, was an opium that dulled her disappointment in herself. And it was those kinds of stories that ended up failing her.

"Miku was right."

Yotsuba made a curious, concerned look.

"That some failures stick with us forever. And there's nothing we can do about it."

"I… wouldn't call that a good philosophy to live by."

But that was the unfortunate truth to it. Perhaps, in the heart of hearts, there are failures we face in our life that's unredeemable. There will always be a space broken inside of us and that can't be filled.

"I was being so selfish."

"Itsuki…"

"I thought I could. I thought I can. And I recklessly accepted an offer and… it turned into a disaster."

"Hey, I know you're upset, but let's don't make it bigger than it already is."

"I was so caught up in the moment, Yotsuba. I… I never felt to embarrassed about myself before."

And that was the ultimate truth. Itsuki no longer wanted to learn from her failure, she just wanted to forget about it. She didn't deserve to succeed.

"You know," Yotsuba said after the briefest of silence. "People loved to talk about the failures that they recovered from. The stories of how a setback in their life only made them stronger. It's the 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' song. But what they don't talk about are the failures that are dirty and unworthy. People hate to talk about the failures that are filled with shame and guilt. The ones that make them feel like they don't deserve a second chance.

So I guess Miku's right. Some failures stick to us because we can't bounce back from them. Not all mistakes are redeemable. Not all failures are empowering. Sometimes, we never get second chances." She took gave Itsuki a smile. A soft one. "So let's go ahead and call them for they truly are."

"And what is that?"

"Change."

Itsuki stared at her hands folded against her knees. "I don't like it."

"No one does," Yotsuba laughed. "Let's just say failure a call to change. Big or small. Oftentimes, failures stop us from getting what we want, but maybe that's not the entire story. Maybe we have to fail because, in the end, it's failure that tells us honestly on who we are and who we want to be." She laughed to herself before turning to Itsuki to say, "You're going to become a great teacher, you know that?"

"Don't." Itsuki shook her head. "Please don't say that. Please."

"I'm serious," Yotsuba insisted. "Because you of all people know what it's like to be stupid. You of all people know what it takes to succeed."

"I… don't see how that can be a compl- you know what? I'll take it as a compliment."

Yotsuba let Itsuki rest her head on her shoulders. It was warm. "I know it's hard but we have to be able to live with failure to grow. Let change be the redemption in your failure," Yotsuba said. "And everything will be turn out alright."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then it's not the end and we do what we have to do: change."

"That sounds easy," Itsuki said.

"But it rarely is," Yotsuba agreed. "But that's the fun, right?"

"Not all of us can handle a challenge," Itsuki said but she was smiling softly. She sat there, letting her head lean against Yotsuba's shoulder. "But, thank you."

"Anytime."

So they sat there, comfortable with the silence between them. Comfortable with each other. And Itsuki sat there, trying her best to be comfortable with the pain inside her heart.

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Itsuki bowed her head. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened."

"No, I should the one apologizing… I thought- maybe… I just wanted-"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "It's alright. I'm glad you offered it to me."

There was still a small part of her that hurt. It's been hurting for a while. A small, bleeding hole inside of her. She supposed that as long as she lived, that hole will always be there, reminding her of the times when she felt inept. Unworthy. But that was okay with Itsuki. She thinks she'll be okay as long as she let herself not to be. She figured that's what life was about; that when she tried to live life correctly, that she was going to be wrong a whole lot more.

"Come on, Uesugi-kun. It's time to learn again."


End file.
